


Forced Fit

by wyntirrose



Series: Tales of Don [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntirrose/pseuds/wyntirrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donatello is having serious problems with sparing and is ready to throw in the towel until a pep talk from Splinter helps him get through his fears and doubts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forced Fit

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Special thanks to Bitter Eloquence for betaing for me. This fic was written for the prompt "Square".

"OW! Come on, Leo! Stop it already!" I cried as my brother's bokken slammed into my side with enough force to splinter the wood and send a painful vibration through my plastron and carapace.

"Not until you defend yourself," Leo growled back as he resumed a first-position stance.

"I _am_ defending myself!" I bit out. Normally I had an almost limitless amount of patience when it came to Leonardo's work harder attitude, but after a week of being yelled at and beaten nearly to a bloody pulp every day I was finding that my patience was stretching to the breaking point.

"Not well enough, Donatello," he replied tersely. "If I had been using katana instead of bokken that last strike would have incapacitated you or killed you outright."

"Leo, this is sparing! The point is to _not_ kill me!"

"And if this were a real battle? If I was a member of the Foot or a Triceriton? Or some other enemy? What then?" Leo dropped his stance and began to crowd me, trying to intimidate me with shere size, anger, and skill. "Whining about it won't save your life! Now **FOCUS**!"

In that moment, something snapped in me. Without conscious thought I struck out at Leo with the heel of my hand, hitting him in the center of his plastron. I felt him shift his weight back as I connected, rolling with the strike and allowing my momentum to carry me through and past him. He grabbed my arm and twisted up while taking my legs out from under me in a well timed sweep. In an instant, he had me pinned to the floor of the dojo, his hand pressed hard to the back of my neck, forcing my submission.

"If I were an enemy, you'd be dead," he hissed in my ear. He let me go and got up, moving in front of me and taking up a standard defensive posture again. "And you need to keep practicing. That strike was amateurish."

I stood and faced him, knowing that there was no way that I could beat Leo hand to hand like this. He was too fast, too skilled, and frankly, too strong for me to beat. We both knew that, and that made this little exercise all the more pointless.

"This is all so pointless," I muttered.

"What?" he demanded.

"All of this is pointless, Leo. If this were a real combat situation, do you really think that the Foot would be taking us on one on one? Do you really think that the Triceritons would obey the rules of the dojo or fight unarmed?" I asked, crossing my arms over my plastron defensively. "This is _sparring_. It's _practice_! It's not the opportunity to beat the crap out of us just to prove you can. Splinter _never_ trained us like this!"

For a moment I saw my words hit home, then Leo hardened again.

"I'm not Splinter," he growled.

"Yeah, no kidding," I replied bitterly.

With that, I turned and left the dojo, passing Splinter as I did. I felt my heart sink as I saw that look in his eyes - half concern, half disapproval. I wanted to go back, to apologize and take my knocks just like I always did. It would have been so very easy to go back to the status quo and let Raphael be the one to mouth off. But I'd made my statement, and if I wanted any of this to sink in with both Leo and myself, I'd have to stick to my convictions and refuse to take part in this assault that he insisted on calling training.

I entered my room and stuck a chair under the door knob. It was as close as I could get to locking it. Had I been Raphael I would have just grabbed my stuff and left the lair entirely instead of sulking in my tent, so to speak. He was always far more aggressive about his anger than I was; far more proactive about his life. On one level it was terribly tempting to just run, to walk out and not have to face any of this any more. But that's just not me. I take my lumps, I act like the good son, I do what I'm told and swallow my irritation. A part of me really wanted to just go back and apologize to Leo and get back to that so-called training. And there it was. I don't respect Leo when he gets this way and I don't want to play his games; and at the same time, I can't bring myself to rock the boat and speak up. With a miserable sigh, I sat down on my bed and stared at the ar wall. I was going in circles at a mile a minute and getting nowhere fast.

A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my reflection. It was too soft to be one of my brothers, so rather than ignore it like I wanted to, I quickly unlocked the door and swung it open.

Splinter stood there, looking up at me with that totally inscrutable gaze he gets sometimes. I never know what he's thinking when he looks at me like that. Just a moment ago I would have sworn that he was disappointed, but now he was all zen master. As inscrutable as Confuscius.

"My son," he said softly. "I would speak with you regarding this afternoon's session."

I felt something cold form in the pit of my stomach. "Yes, Master Splinter. I- I mean, of course."

I went to take a step forward to follow him to his room for my dressing down, but Splinter never moved. Instead, he nodded to my desk chair, just visible from the door.

"May I come in?"

I instantly went from worried to confused and more than a little curious. Splinter hadn't spoken to us in our rooms since we were young. Ever since we came into our own and he granted us permission to go out into the world, all meetings with him - be they praise or discipline - were always held in his room, with him behind his table while we knelt before him. In his room we were Sensei and Student, not father and son.

I realized I had waited too long to reply when Splinter prompted me again with a soft and gentle "My son?"

"Of course, sorry, Sensei. Sorry for the mess, I, uhm ..." I trailed off as I tried to quickly put away the various projects I had on the go. Somehow, I managed to make the room look more like a tornado had hit it.

Splinter only chuckled softly and sat in my chair. It was ridiculously out of proportion on him, his feet hanging down, almost reaching the ground but not quite. And yet, instead of looking like a child, he managed to make it look as if he was sitting on a throne. I moved to kneel before him, just as I would in his room or in the dojo, but was stopped by his cane gently tapping my plastron.

"Sit, don't kneel. I simply wish to talk with you, Donatello," he said. He waited for me to sit on the edge of my bed before continuing. "I am concerned, my son. You, more than your brothers, seem to be having difficulties with the training and with Leonardo's techniques."

I felt myself hunching a little as I realized that this really was a dressing down. "I'm sorry, Master. I'll apologize to Leonardo right away and get back to the training. I didn't mean to disappoint you." I heard a miserable little crack in my voice and was horrified. Before I could do anything I'd regret, I got up and bolted to the door.

Or I would have, had Splinter not tapped me again with his cain.

"Sit," he ordered. "We are not finished with our discussion."

I sat again, balancing precariously on the edge of the bed, ready to run back tot he dojo at his order. "Yes, Sensei. I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize, my son." He shook his head and sighed softly, bringing his cane to rest across his knees as he pulled his legs under him in the lotus position. "I am not here to berate you or punish you in any way. I simply wish to find out what is bothering you."

I looked at Splinter in silence for a long time. I was so very tempted to tell him that everything was fine, that nothing was wrong and that I would try harder. It would just be so very easy to maintain the status quo and keep my thoughts to myself. I opened my mouth to deny all of it, and then I saw the look on Splinter's face and I lost my resolve.

"I'm trying Master," I said, and my voice was small and pathetic sounding in my ears. "I keep trying and I just ..." I trailed off with a miserable shrug. "The others- I don't know, it just seems so easy for them. And no matter how hard I try I just can't be that good. ... and I know it disappoints you ..."

"Oh my son," Splinter reached out and placed a hand on my head. "You do not disappoint me. Nor are you less than your brothers. You are unique among them, Donatello. And I love you for that uniqueness."

I felt a sob start to well up in my throat. I had been holding on to all of this for so long that I hadn't realized just how much it was hurting me. I sighed deeply and got myself back under control. I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't make a sound. He rubbed the top of my head gently then moved his hand to my shoulder and squeezed gently.

"You have always been like a square peg desperately trying to mold yourself into a triangular hole. By wearing away at yourself you are diminishing your potential. You may not be the warrior your brothers are, but you are no less the warrior. Your battlegrounds are simply different ones."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak in the moment.

Splinter got off the chair and took my chin in hand, turning my face to look at him. "I am proud of you, my son. Never doubt that," he said. hen with one last look he turned and moved to the door.

"Remain here until you are better, then return to the dojo. You will continue today's training with Raphael while Michelangelo spars with Leonardo."

"Yes, Master Splinter," I replied. Then I stood and bowed to him formally. "And thank you, Sensei."

A moment after he left, I followed and headed back to the dojo. As I entered the others stopped training and all looked at me. Michelangelo nudged Raphael in the side and they shared a look. It wasn't something obvious to interpret, but I'd known them long enough to tell that they'd had a small bet going on how long I'd stay away. Obviously from the grin Mikey was trying to suppress, he'd won. Leonardo, meanwhile, looked as solemn and serious as ever.

"Welcome back, Donatello," he said. "If you're ready, go practice with Raphael."

"If it's all the same with you and Master Splinter, I'd rather finish what we started, Leo," I replied. "You don't mind, do you, Raph?"

Raphael shrugged. "Nah. Do whatever ya like, Donnie."

I took my place across from Leo and took up a defensive position. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Leo nodded and started to circle me. "Just remember, Donnie, keep your hands up and your weight forward."

It was the first piece of advice I'd received from him in a long time. I took it, and the small hint of a smile puling at Leo's mouth, as both an apology and as acceptance. It was a start and it was up to me to take the same steps. With a deep, cleansing breath, I struck out at him, and the night's training began again. Now all I needed to do was avoid those bokken.


End file.
